


do you need me?

by parksofties



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Billy and Steve both have a crush on each other, Bipolar Disorder, Hurt Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Internalised ableism, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Parental Jim "Chief" Hopper, Protective Billy Hargrove, Schizophrenia, Self-Harm, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington-centric, Steve isn't doing too well, billy takes care of steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:46:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29310543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parksofties/pseuds/parksofties
Summary: If you'd told Steve that he would've fell in love with the guy who beat his face into the floor of the Byers' house during the middle of a fight to save the world, he would've asked for more of his crazy medication from the doctors.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Jim "Chief" Hopper
Kudos: 68





	do you need me?

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written for Stranger things, and i don't know how i feel about it now i read it back, but im gonna upload it anyway.   
> Steve wasn't supposed to end up as big as a mess as he does in this, it was originally only supposed to be Billy comforting him after a rough night, but i got carried away so now he's a schizophrenic bipolar kid with ptsd bless him.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: self harm (unintentional? but still self harm), panic attacks, dissociation, schizophrenia, bipolar, thoughts of suicide, ableist language that Steve uses to describe himself such as "nutjob" and "crazy". mental breakdown, hallucinations?

-the demodog leaps forward, screeching and snarling and sharp claws digging into any breathing surface they could find. he hits it with the bat, a wet squelching sound echoing around the tunnels, the sticky slime underneath his worn trainers gripping him to the floor, his legs stuck, he watched in horror as it leaps and lands on top of Dustin, of Max, of Lucas, of Mike, blood sprays up the walls, they sob and scream and Steve just dumbly stands and watches as the innocent kids get ripped apart, and he's uselessly holding the bat in his limp hands and just stands and watches, too stupid and useless to do anything-

-Steve shoots up in bed, a half strangled sob stuck in his throat. his chest shrinks and his hands grab weakly at his bedsheets, his heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears. The darkness grows around him, sucking all the light out of the room until the only source left is the shimmering blue that reflects from the pool outside. He gags dryly, hunching over the side of his bad, gasping loudly. His hands reach up to tug at his tangled hair, and he digs his nails into his palms, squeezing tighter and tighter until a stab of pain breaks through the haze of fear and drags him back from the depths of his trauma. He inhales sharply, sharply enough he chokes on the air clamouring back into his throat, and he coughs loudly, loudly enough that it echoes through the entire house, his huge, emptyemptyempty house-

-his eyes prickle and burn and he starts to sob.

***

He pulls into a free car parking space at school, unbuckling his seatbelt and breathing deeply before grabbing his backpack resting in the passenger seat and heaving himself out the car. Across the car park, he can make out Nancy and Jonathan by the doors, standing closely together, and he watches her laugh and tilt her head back before following him into the corridor. A pang of pain shoots through his chest and he breathes deeply again, forcing back the urge to slam the car door onto his head as he locks it and walks up to the doors. 

He finds himself at his locker, staring into space, when someone claps a hand onto his shoulder and he flinches, spinning around to find Billy frowning at him, blue eyes searching his face, and his chest loosens at the sight of his friend.

"You good, Harrington?" Billy asks, his hand still resting on Steve's shoulder, thumb touching the side of his neck, and Steve swallows. "You look like shit."

Steve snorts, shaking his head as he slams his locker stuff, and Billy smiles at him, eyebrows still slightly furrowed with worry. 

"I'm fine, I just didn't sleep great, that's all," Steve replies, knocking his shoulder into Billy's and stumbling slightly when Billy does it back. He wants to make a joke about "planting his feet", but the last time he brought it up Billy got a dark look of shameguiltregret that passed across his face and Steve hasn't mentioned it since, remembering all too well the last time those words were mentioned, and how it resulted in Billy pounding his face into the floor until he couldn't see straight and couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears and was left slurring his words so badly that Hopper had dragged him to the hospital over fears that his skull had cracked in two from the attack.

"You never sleep great," Billy says, and he's right.

He's seen all too well how sleep deprived Steve sometimes is when he stumbles into school, eyes slipping shut in lesson, resulting in Billy poking him in the side with his pen to keep him awake. He's never seen how bad it can get, though. He never saw the time where Steve had been awake for about 70 hours, where he'd collapsed in the corner of his kitchen shaking and crying because he was convinced that the rotting corpse of Barb had crawled out of his pool and followed him inside. He never saw Steve's house after he'd smashed a shit ton of items everywhere and sliced his hands and arms open from the damage, bleeding all over the floor and his clothes until Hopper swung by to check on him and had to bandage him up and calm him down and convince him that, no, there wasn't any demogorgans in his house and no, Dustin's corpse wasn't lying on his bedroom floor. He wasn't going to let Billy see him like that, no matter what. Only two people had ever seen him have breakdowns like that, one being Hopper, and one being his mum when he was 12 and she whisked him away to the hospital where they gave him a prescription of rattling pills with the orders to "take one every morning". Steve had been popping prescription pills as long as he could remember, and the added trauma of the upside down did nothing to help his already unstable brain. He remembered Hopper's confused look when he found all his prescriptions in the bathroom cabinet, and he had to stammer through a shitty explanation about his breakdowns and his mood swings and his self destructive behaviours, and when he left, Hopper gave him a hug that nearly left him in tears and pinned his house phone number on Steve's fridge. 

"-eve? Steve?" Steve blinked and found himself in the nearest empty corner, Billy's hands now on both of his shoulders and his eyes searching Steve's own. "You were completely out of your head then, man? what's wrong, i'm serious."

Steve blinks at him, his brain fogging, before remembering distinctly he forgot his meds that morning. And the morning before that. And the morning before that. He remembers shaking the empty container in his hand- he'd forgotten to refill it- and then had neglected to take any of his other's, his attention more focused on the fact he was still dry gagging into the toilet, the image of the nightmare still burned into his eyes. 

"I think i need to go," he mumbles in reply, gesturing lethargically at the door, his arms feeling heavier than they were supposed to. 

"Okay," Billy replied, his words sounding distant. "Hey." The word broke through the cloudiness and Steve looked back at him. "I'm gonna come with you okay? I'll drive you in my car and I'll take you home, okay?"

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat and nods silently, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. Billy pats him gently on the shoulder and wraps his arm around him, steering him in the direction of the door. Billy unlocks his locker to grab his things and Steve notices Nancy and Jonathan turn to look, their faces falling into a concerned picture. He jumps as Billy slams his locker shut, and Billy frowns at him apologetically and continues to lead him out the doors, brushing past the small number of students still milling around. 

The chill of the air hits Steve like a truck and he inhales sharply, the world spinning around him, stumbling over his feet until he finds himself seated in the passenger seat of Billy's Camaro and a warm hand pats his cheek gently. 

"Steve, hey. You're in my car, okay? I'm driving you home right now, it won't take long."

Steve doesn't think he responds.

*****  
The warmth of his house washes over him and he feels himself crumble. 

A sob tears out of his throat and he starts to shake, digging his nails into his hands as deep as he can, trying to focus on the pain but feels himself getting taken, washed away in the fog that is always in the back of his head, haunting him, and he flinches when he feels hands on his shoulders, his face, his hands-

"eve-Steve, hey, look at me, what's wrong-" he hears someone stammer distantly, and he hears an odd wailing, choking sounds, like someone's crying.

Something solid presses up against his back and his legs, something solid, like a wall? His head slightly bounces as he crumples, and all he wants is for that horrible crying noise to stop, to get out of his head, so he throws his head back, relishes in the familiar harsh pain that spreads across his head, so he does it again, and again, and there's something soft, now? behind his head? he tries again, chases the pain, hoping it'll stop the noise, but it just hits something soft again, something's in the way-

-and he just wants the wailing to stop, it sounds like the people he used to see in his bedroom, and oh GOD, what if it's Barb who's wailing, what if she's crying for help, oh god-

Steve thinks he feels his heart stop. 

His heart stops, his chest contracts, ribs screaming, throat closing up. He feels a pressure on his left shoulder, feels himself being pulled into something soft, something warm, something that rocks him softly, but he can't BREATHE-

He chokes, his throat burning, his whole body aching. It feels like he got hit by a truck, or a demogorgan, it feels like when Billy beat him and when Jonathan beat him and that time his dad kicked him too hard, and the noise changes, from wailing into gasping and choking, and he realises with a rush of clarity that it's him? 

He starts to come back to himself, feels the rough material of denim against his cheek, feels a hand across his back, feels another resting on his head, and he blinks the tears away, a bloodied Barb appearing in the doorway of the kitchen, before he blinks and she's gone. 

"Steve, you back with me?" a voice says right next to him, and he jumps, before he finds himself looking into a pair of very familiar blue eyes, that crinkle round the edge slightly as their mouth turns up into a reassuring half smile, the shadow of deep concern and panic casting across his face. Steve nods blearily, his heart still racing, convinced that someone's still lurking in the corridor near them, feels the threat of danger crawling up his back. Billy pulls him up gently and leads him to the sofa, pressing a glass of water in his hand that he gulps down, a warm hand holding it steady for him as his entire body is still shaking uncontrollably, making him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin.

"I need my m-meds," he stammers, looking down to avoid the inevitable look of disgust he knows he's going to recieve from his friend, ex-friend now, probably. "I ran out and I thought i'd be fine with out them, but I'm not at all, I'm not, I'm really not, I'm so STUPID-"

"Hey, Stevie, listen to me. You're not stupid, we've been over this. Tell me where to get more of your meds and I'll get them you, okay?" 

He gestures towards the kitchen unsteadily, mumbling something about calling Hopper, before he feels himself drifting a little, eyes still spotting figures standing all around the room, and GOD they're going to kill him, they're going to kill him, unless he kills himself first-

***  
He doesn't know how much time passes, sat on the couch with a blanket tucked round his shoulders, fabric wrapped around his palms which he thinks are bandages to cover the wounds from his nails, his head thudding with pain and his entire body aching, heart still racing at an unhealthy rate. He feels heavy as fuck, feels like the house and the walls and the world is about to collapse, and he'd welcome it. Someone presses a glass into his hand again, taps his face lightly and waves a pot of rattling things in front of him. He focuses on a stubbled chin, worn but kind eyes, and realises it's Hopper, crouched in front of him with a worried frown and his hat slightly askew. Billy is stood behind him, nervous energy radiating from him, his eyes fixed on Steve's face. Hopper pops a pill from each of the three prescription bottles, places them in Steve's palm and helps him take them, hand pressed lightly on the back of Steve's neck to help him swallow it down. 

"Sorry," Steve mumbles after swallowing them down, feeling his body curl into itself slightly with embarrassment, shadows still bouncing around the edges of his eyes. He knows they will for a little while longer, but knowing the tablets are in his system relaxes him slightly, his hunched shoulders slumping. "Thank you, um. Sorry. To both of you."

"Don't be sorry kid," Hopper replies in his comforting gruff voice, tugging Steve into a warm hug. "Next time, don't let your meds run out, tell me if you need me to pick you any up if you can't do it yourself, rather than have a breakdown and have your boyfriend call me in a panic."

Billy splutters behind him, and Steve feels his mouth turn into a grin, a choked laugh falling from his throat. Hopper claps Billy on the shoulder as he leaves and closes the front door quietly as he leaves the house, and Billy steps forward, sitting next to Steve. 

"Steve, look at me," he says, and Steve shakes his head, clamping his lips together and blinking to force back the tears. "Before you get lost in your head, I don't think you're some crazy freak. Just because you need a shit ton of pills to keep your head on straight doesn't make me wanna run for the hills, okay? You gotta believe me on that."

"Are you sure? I'm fucking insane, Billy, you saw the state of me before. I'm fucking crazy, have been for years. That's why i got so many pills, because they stop me from seeing shit that isn't there, a-and I've got others that stop me from wanting to kill myself, and other's that stop me from having mood swings and smashing shit and getting hyper and just- I'm fucking crazy Billy."

"Shit, Stevie," Billy replies after a second, and Steve feels himself curl into himself again, focuses on his bandaged hands rather than the sudden urge to just run into the kitchen and slit his throat. "It doesn't make any difference to me. You're still the same dude, you just need a little extra balancing out with all these-pills."

Steve leans into Billy, his heart rate slowing back to normal as an arm wraps around his shoulder, pulling him close and talking to him about mundane things as the shadows in the corners retreate and "Should I stay or should i go" blares quietly in the background.

******  
It gets easier, from there on. 

Steve learns to keep better track of his meds after that, decides to never ever go off them again as long as he lives cause FUCK that. Billy starts checking too, and it becomes part of their daily routine for him to ask Steve is he's taken his pills, how many he's got left, how he's feeling, how he slept. He catches on how to help Steve with, well, pretty much everything. He listens to Steve when he complains about the letters just mixing together on the page, about how they flip backwards and forwards and don't make sense, and he reads aloud to him sometimes, helps him sound out letters without making Steve feel like an idiot. 

He's in love with Billy.

Which of course, is stupid, because Billy's never going to love someone like Steve, a nutjob who can barely hold himself together some days, who can't sleep with all the lights off at night, who keeps the nailbat constantly in the trunk of his car or in the backseat, but Billy doesn't judge him for that either, and when Steve shakes through an explanation of the Upside Down and Eleven and Demodogs and Dart eating a cat, he listens and tells Steve "I'll come and look with you if you ever get paranoid there's one hanging about, don't go on your own."

But one day, when him and Billy are high on marijuana and are giggling about how they broke into the old swimming pool and got chased by Callahan, Billy presses his lips to Steve's and Steve presses his to Billy's. And if they start holding hands and spending nights together and sharing stolen kisses under the stars, sometimes tasting of cigarettes and beer, then that's nobody's business. And when Billy moves into Steve's big, empty house with him, they throw a small gathering where they admit their relationship to the party and the adults, where they recieve nothing but "I knew it!"'s and a clap on the shoulder from Hopper and a hug from Joyce. 

If you'd told Steve that he would've fell in love with the guy who beat his face into the floor of the Byers' house during the middle of a fight to save the world, he would've asked for more meds.


End file.
